


Monster

by overlordy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Again, Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Genyatta - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, implied suicidal thoughts, it doesnt say specifically but you can interpret it like that if you want, zen just cares about genji so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7039558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overlordy/pseuds/overlordy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genji faces his insecurities about his existence. Zenyatta helps out as best he can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster

_Thwack. Thwack. Thwack._

Genji’s arms began to burn with exertion as he placed all his strength behind his blade, scoring deep notches in the wood of the unlucky training dummy before him. Beside that dummy was another, destroyed to the point that it was unrecognizable. Beside that one, another, and another, and another. The last one even had a fork lodged in its head. Genji tended to be creative when his frustration got the better of him.

He lost track of how long he had been attacking these training dummies. He returned to the temple from a mission at around noon, and when he paused to take a glance outside, the moon rested high in the sky.

A young girl’s face flashed in his mind, the high tone of her voice stretched thin around a word that made his gut turn and his head swim.

 _Monster_.

With a broken cry of rage, Genji lobbed the head off his training dummy. He sent it flying across the room with a kick for good measure. It crashed into the doorway, right beside Zenyatta’s head, who had just decided to peek in. He deflected a piece of shrapnel before it could lodge in any important gears.

Genji shrank back, horrified that he would kick a wooden head at his master. “Master, forgive me, I-”

“There is no harm done, Genji. Well, aside from our poor friend here.” The omnic looked down at the splintered head resting pitifully on the floor, then at the maimed remains of the other training dummies. “You seem stressed,” he observed, which made Genji snort to himself. _Understatement_. “Did your mission go poorly? You stormed in here as soon as you returned, and I have not seen you since.”

“No, master,” Genji panted, catching his breath. Figuring he was finished for the day, he sheathed his sword. “The mission went well. All hostages were rescued, completely unharmed.”

Zenyatta tilted his head. “Then what is it that troubles you?”

Genji sighed and shook his head, an action that drew Zenyatta closer, fretting like a mother hen. There was a sour taste in his mouth, residue from his tantrum and the overwhelming self-loathing that threatened to engulf him at a moment’s notice. As if sensing his turmoil, his master came to a stop.

“Genji…” Zenyatta’s robotic voice was tight with worry. The cyborg grimaced and looked down, unable to face his master for fear of disappointing him with his weakness. It was shameful to let the words of a child get under his skin, and yet…

“One of the hostages,” he choked out, before he could stop himself. “A little girl, dark hair, no older than ten. She would not come with me, she…”

He envisioned himself, arms outstretched to the little girl in his memory, pleading for her to take his hand before reinforcements arrived. He drew in a breath, desperately calming his rising anxiety before he lost his composure. “She looked at me, and all I could see was fear. She called me a monster, master.”

Genji placed his head in his hands, shivering with the weight of such an innocuous word. He knew the girl meant no harm, that she was frightened and unsure of anything unfamiliar, but the accusation hit hard. “I fear that she may be right,” he continued, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I am not a man, nor am I a machine. I have no place anywhere, and it seems like the only thing I am capable of is hurting others and myself. I do not deserve to be-”

“Genji.” Zenyatta’s stern voice interrupted the cyborg’s dangerous train of thought. Genji went tense, then slumped to his knees as all fight left his exhausted body. Soundless, Zenyatta floated onto the ground before him. “This is what has been bothering you?”

Unable to bring himself to speak, Genji nodded. “I understand. This must be very significant to you, please do not fault yourself for confiding in me.”

Genji remained silent, staring at the wood floor, unable to meet his master’s gaze. He heard a sigh. “Genji, may I touch you?”

The thought of anyone touching him made his stomach turn. He shook his head.

“Very well. Genji, please do not think that you do not deserve anything.” The cyborg clenched his hands into fists, forcing himself to listen. “Despite what others may tell you, and what you may tell yourself, you, like anyone else, are worthy of happiness and positivity. The state of your body does not determine what you do or do not deserve.”

Genji sucked in a sharp breath, his chest tightening from his master’s kind words. He lifted his head, gazing upon his master’s calm presence. “Master, I-”

“You are courageous,” Zenyatta interrupted him again, “and intelligent. Your wit is sharp, but you also possess kindness and humility. You have grown so much these past few years, and it is that growth that proves you deserve nothing but the best. I am honored to have you at my side, Genji. I could not think of anyone more capable and more understanding.”

A noise of pain forced itself from Genji’s chest. Forgetting himself, he moved forward and wrapped his arms around Zenyatta, pulling him close. Steady hands fell on his back and held him in return, anchoring him against the torrent of sadness that threatened to drown him. He did not cry; he might have lost that ability. Still, he hid his face against Zenyatta’s shoulder and allowed himself to be comforted by his smooth scent and his warmth and the sound of whirring machinery. The pain slipped away, little by little, replaced with tranquility.

Too soon, reality returned to him, and he realized that he forced himself into his master’s space. Embarrassed and ashamed, he drew away. Zenyatta watched him patiently.

“Master,” Genji pleaded, “I should… I feel too much for you, I apologize.”

“It is alright,” Zenyatta soothed. “I am quite fond of you as well, Genji.” Zenyatta touched his hand and the weight of that action sent a burst of hope through the cyborg.

“You mean…?”

“I mean everything I say.”

Genji stared at his master in shock, who stared back. He was at a loss, not for the first time in his life, and certainly not the last.

“Well,” Zenyatta said, his voice light with mirth. “Are you going to kiss me?”

A burst of laughter fell from Genji. “Yes, Zenyatta, I suppose, but you do not have lips.”

“We can find a way,” Zenyatta assured, resolute. Genji, his shoulders shaking with residue laughter, leaned forward. Zenyatta met him halfway.


End file.
